Wronged
by royaltyjunk
Summary: They all whispered and mocked her for wrongs except for him.


_A/N: Meanwhile I put away the 3DS to play Binding Blade and totally die because of Perceval/Cecilia ._

 _Just a short little one-shot. Anyways, enjoy~_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize in this story. Especially not the Fire Emblem franchise._

∫xOx∫xOx∫

They all whispered and mocked her for wrongs except for him.

They whispered about the way she walked.

As a mounted warrior, she had never found reason to train herself in walking like the noble ladies of the Etruria's courts. Her heeled boots caused clicks to follow her path. She walked with a bold stride.

Councilmen constantly jeered and whispered. Everyone seemed to care about what she did, except for him. He simply walked alongside her, smiling at every harsh click of her boots, every angry sway of her arms, every slightly upset nudge of her hips.

They whispered about the type of tome and magic she used.

Cecilia had been taught to excel in Anima magic. Her teacher, Duke Reglay, had a strong kindling for Elfire Magic. She had a liking for the powerful fire magic, but her signature tome was a magic book handed to her by one of Ostia's magic scholars. It had been a sort of gift, given to celebrate her promotion to Mage General and to thank her for teaching Roy and Lilina. It was a special tome - weaker than fire or thunder magic, but effective against fliers.

The scholars of noble blood growled and scoffed at her. Everyone seemed to disapprove of her, except for him. He simply traced every inch of her fingers with his, his fingertips savoring the feel of her hand clutching the green tome in anger.

They whispered about her war abilities.

She had been taught strategy and tactics from Lord Pent, but never really had such an experience that tried the extents of her strategic planning. People doubted her and glared at her as she listed off their orders and positions, though few dared to disagree with her orders.

The strategists and tacticians of the army ignored and scorned her. Everyone seemed to mistrust her, except for him. He simply nodded as she issued her commands, tracing battle plans and terrain maps quietly on the back of her tightly-clenched fists with his calloused fingers.

They whispered about her upbringing.

Cecilia had seemingly showed up out of nowhere. The first time anyone had ever seen or heard of her was from Duke Reglay, when he had still been the Mage General. He had brought her to the castle, introducing her to the generals that stood on par with him. Though the other generals that worked alongside Pent respected and honored her, lower-ranking generals and commanders despised her. They thought she had been foreign, or some girl whom Lord Pent had brought her up simply out of pity.

The mages and valkyries under her control gossiped and bad-mouthed her. Everyone seemed to chatter about her, except for him. He simply cupped her face lightly, laying his forehead on hers and hearing her soft, broken breaths.

They whispered about her personality.

She was a kind person. She trusted others very much - to the point where people began to doubt her trust. Her eyes were always soft and considerate, gently happy. She constantly listened, without a word of protest. She never interjected, or let anyone interrupt. Neither would she cry, or sob, or become upset when she listened to others' issues.

The generals and leaders of the army disbelieved and shamed her. Everyone seemed to distrust her, except for him. He simply brushed his hand against her chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly as he brushed away the wet tears forming in her eyes.

They whispered about her appearance.

Cecilia's green hair and similarly green eyes had struck the mother load of controversies and rumors. Etrurians began to doubt if she was really from Etruria. Rumors flew of her fleeing from her original foreign home into the shelter of the great magical kingdom grew. They coined her as one of Sacaen descent, her hair color and colorful irises stirring the gossip. Others stared at her thin nose, calling her out as a part of Ilian genealogy. Still more looked at her slim lips, and whispered to their companions that she must have had Lycian blood.

The nobles who had truly been of Lycian and Sacaen blood exiled and hissed at her. Everyone seemed to shun her, except for him. He simply ran his hands through her light green hair, behind her pale ear, along her high cheekbone, and around her trembling slim lips before kissing her tenderly.


End file.
